Illusions in Strength
by Willibaldvonsomething
Summary: Two new transfers to Hogwarts, with similar but different goals. One to break the chains placed on them, and another to protect those she cares about. As the Dark Lord gathers his forces, people and loyalties will be tested and broken. Who will be the first to break? The false god? Or the selfless shark? AU
1. Illusions in Strength

**AN: Yo, I normally don't start off with Author notes, but just thought I'd mention this being rather heavily in the category of AU. Anyways, hope you enjoy.**

He hated it. He hated school more than anything else. Every word coming out of the toothpick of a teacher could have, and in his case would be, been read straight out of the textbook or the assignments and performed a short minute later.

He was better than the rest of the rabble that called themselves his classmates. If he had his way with things, he'd show up once a year for exams, if that, to shut the local Ministry up weekend when boredom finally got the best of him.

But no, every day he was 'forced' to go to class, half dragged, half marched with a shoe print on his ass. All to suffer through this slog called 'life'. The fact he knew someone in a similar position to him, but didn't share in his suffering was an old wound he'd long left to heal, similar to the scars that marked his perfect face.

So Barragan just sat their, forehead pressed against the cool wood of his desk as he listened to the seconds tick by, wishing for the day to end so he could do something, anything to entertain him.

After all he was the best, a king among peasants, did he not deserve more than to waste away, his time better spent when there was so much more he could be doing? A little bit of comedy would be nice around now.

* * *

><p>Tier had to shake her head slightly at the scene before her. It was a good thing she ran into Mina or she'd still be waiting for the white-haired prick. The remaining students gave her a wide berth as they filed out of the Charm's classroom, though she knew to expect more whispers about her relationship with the stocky teen, Beauxbaton's sole 'Dark Wizard'.<p>

No matter how many times either of them denied the rumors of being involved, they never truly died.

If she described the reason she spent so much of her time with a self-centered egomaniac who looks down upon the common man like ants waiting for his boot heel, she'd simply shrug and say 'He's like a disease, and I've yet to find the potion or hex to cure me of his presence.' or 'someone needs to keep him in check'

The fact his presence offered this strange sense of.. not safety, or anything like that, but familiarity from the four years they'd been at each other's throats was another reason she didn't simply ignore him.

So she did what any 'not really a friend, not really an enemy' would do in the situation, gave him a firm kick to the shin, not saying a word as the unopened ink pot, and set of quills shifted from

"I am to care about your _kleinlich_ trivialities when you interrupted one of the _einige dinge _I enjoy? _Verdammt, Hai Frau..._" He didn't even bother to look up. Only one person had the spine required to stand up to him, and frankly, after nearly four years of trying, he'd basically given up on trying to teach her to respect her betters.

After all, when she could go shot for shot against him in a no-holds barred duel, she had very few 'betters'.

"No, but if someone didn't wake you, I'd be responsible for stopping you from laying waste to the helpless first years you'd torment in revenge.. Now hurry up _Herr Skelett_. Madame Vachel had us potting various herbs and plants today, so I for one would like a meal before finishing the potions essay that you haven't started."

"Why waste _meine _time? I know how to make the potion, that _Hure_ Eloisa knows I know how to make the potion. I will not be treated like some damn parrot, whose only purpose is to spew back the _Kacke_ we are forced to 'learn'. So no I will not entertain the old _Kuh_ with 8 inches on 'dangers and ramifications of continued use of Brewed Glory.' I do not care."

"Then care enough to get up before I float you by your ankles. We have only a week left before exams, and while some of us." She glared at the unresponsive mop of bone-white hair. "Don't need to study, others do. I promised Mila Rose, Apacci and Sung-sun to help them prepare for transfigurations."

Barragan snorted at the mention of Harribel's groupies. "By that I assume you'll be borrowing my Grimoire?" Finally deciding that he was awake enough to care about Harribel or her bitching, Barragan took out his wand to use a simple levitation charm to float himself, and the chair he sat in to follow after his blonde fr-enemy.

"Yes." And there was the other reason she tolerated him. His families Grimoire. A black and white tome filled with century after century of spells, potions, curses. Everything and anything the Louisenbairn line could get their bony hands on.

From simple charms to turn a rat yellow, to step by step instructions on how to raise inferni, breed a basilisk, or various possible methods of immortality, it was some of the darkest magic Harribel would ever read, all of it contained within those infinite yellow pages for the viewer to look at.

So long as they had the current owner's express permission, of course. A commodity some witches or wizards would pay a wand and a leg for.

And here, she got it for the measly price of adding a new spell, potion or improvements to either per use. After all Barragan was a patient person, just like his father, and his father, and his father before him. All of them could wait, cause they knew their place in the world, so they were in no rush. Even the book was just a fail safe to ensure their rightful place was earned.

It was Barragan's cheat code, and his little perk for being born a Louisenbairn. Full access to a book of magic that if some tales were believed dated back to among the first wizards in existences.

But he tossed it at Harribel like one would a second-hand piece of junk with barely a glance as he floated beside her as she walked down the well-kept halls of the French School.

She had to roll her eyes as students got out of Barragan's way. For all his intellect, his boundless desires, for his ability to memorize and perform spells at a glance, he was still one of the laziest people she knew.

* * *

><p>Most students would be nervous to have their summer vacations interrupted by a summon from their headmistress. Personally, Barragan didn't care. He was a week out of school, so he'd yet to get the chance to truly enjoy his freedom. Besides, he was expecting it.<p>

"Headmistress... a pleasure as always." Barragan didn't even bother to hide the contempt he felt for the women. She was nothing more than his jailor, but if he was right to the reason his headmistress braved calling him outside of school hours, he'd forgive the transgression against himself and at least put up the act of politeness to the queen ant.

"Barragan.. I see you've been busy in my absence." Maxime looked over the piece of parchment that no doubt listed the various fights and rules he'd broken in her absence. He took a little extra glee in his disregard for the rules this year, mostly because of the inane age limit. He'd heard of the challenges offered and he could have done every one of them with half the effort.

And the worst part? In the end they'd actually let some English mutt, the Boy-Whose-Ass-Should-Constantly-Be-Kissed participate! He was the same age as Barragan and by some damn fluke, they let him not only enter, but win! It was a disgrace.

Still, Barragan waved away the trivial matters. "Hardly. I had every intention of sending that group of sixth years to a specialist hospital, specifically in body bags, but as usual Harribel and her hero complex saved the day."

"Barragan, might I remind you that zis is a school, not your personal arena, to fight anyone who catches your eye?" Maxime leveled Barragan's sole eye with a reprimanding stare. Years ago she'd been bothered by the cold, uncaring feel in those black dots, 'like looking into the void' were the words of Arbacier the defensive magic professor, but after three, technically four years of nearly weekly visits to her office, she should could meet them with ease.

"And might I remind you Headmistress that I acted in self-defense. They admitted to attacking me first, and I, the harmless, and innocent victim of their jealousy fueled aggression." Again, Barragan didn't even try to look innocent, he simply reclined back into the soft padded chair.

After all he wasn't lying. It took a few threats of making the beating they received in the hallway look like a glancing blow, but the four seven years when questioned would claim they started the incident and Barragan would get off squeaky clean. Why? Cause a few weeks of detention was nothing compared to the hell the dark-skinned German could unleash on them if he actually tried.

"Yes.. Harribel.. _doux fille.._ How she can stand your presence to this day is a mystery.. but that is not why I called you here. Your time at Beauxbaton has come to an end." Maxime didn't bother hiding her smile. "Your transfer to Hogwart's been approved. I simply hope that you treat them with the respect they deserve, unlike our faculty. "

"Oh Headmistress, I'm sorry that your faculty is as inept as yourself. I know what it's like to be surrounded by _Narren und Mull _on a daily basis. I'll be sure to treat the esteemed _Lehrer_ of Hogwarts with nothing short of the respect their position demands."

"I would expect so, with _jeune fille Harribel_ accompanying you." Maxime dropped the parchment in her hands onto the desk with just as much grace and ease as that bombshell to Barragan's plans.

"_Was?_"

"I would have thought she told you. After all, the _petite fluer_ asked first. In fact, she asked right after news of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's return became public." Maxime drawled out as she flicked her wand, paperwork that had piled up in her absence floating over to be reviewed and signed.

"_Ich verstehe.. _Headmistress, if there is nothing else you have to waste my time with, I'll be off. I have business that actually matters to attend to." Barragan stood up, his fur-lined cape fluttering behind him as he left without another word. He had a shark women to interrogate and a book to deal with.

* * *

><p>Harribel was quite enjoying her summer, months of nothing more to do than read by the beach or spend time with friends. The fact she was going to suffer spending the next year in cold, dreary England was more than enough motivation to enjoy the sunshine while she had the chance.<p>

Now if only she could find a book that'd catch her attention, and that cloud would stop blocking the sunlight. A quick glance up to see when she could continue working on her tan was all it took to ruin her good mood. The cloud was a lot closer than she thought, and wore a stark white coat that she knew by sight.

Honestly? She'd known this day was coming, she just hoped it be a week before school started so she wouldn't have to listen to Barragan's bitching. He really was predictable, but least she wasn't back home, or her parents would get to share in the 'pleasure'.

"Madame Maxime's perfume? I knew you were a man who hated wasting time, but even for you, coming to me straight from her office? I don't know if I should feel honored or insulted." Harribel went back to her book, rather enjoying the crease on Barragan's forehead grow. His face was constantly in a frown regardless, but her ability to always add that one extra line was something she treasured.

"_Geehrt_ of course. You are _gesegnet_ with a chance to bask in my presence now, instead of waiting until the school year."

"Offended it is. And I will be basking in nothing. The nudist beach is a few miles down the way. So keep the cloak on Dracula before I call the police."

Barragan snorted. "Please do not compare me to a creature as _dreckig_ or pathetic as a vampire. Unlike them, I have complete control over my base _triebe_." His eyes wandered to the plain black bikini Harribel wore. "Besides, I am not the one wearing less clothes than a waiting _Hure._"

"If you paid attention in muggle studies, or looked at anyone else on the beach, you'd realize that I am not the one who looked out-of-place. Besides, if I was a _Hure_ as you so claim, you wouldn't have enough galleons in that endless bank of yours to afford a minute of my time, much less the chance to undress me."

"I am to _sorge_ myself with the opinion of muggles, why exactly? Does a _Gott_ need to concern himself with the opinion of _schaf_? And if my family didn't have the sum needed to buy your _zeit_, I find it hard to believe any wizarding family does." Barragan scoffed at the very idea of some other wizarding family hording more gold and gems than those stored in the hallowed caves of Los Noches.

"My point exactly." Harribel deadpanned as she flipped the page.

"Mmm.. but I did not come here for something as _kleinlich_ and banal as muggles." Barragan smirked as Harribel twitched. Could he have continued to insult her parents? Absolutely, but he had more important things to do. And experience taught him that past a certain point, he was more than likely to get spells slung at him than insults. "So _Hai Frau.._any plans for the school year?"

"Besides a slight change in scenery? I hardly think so." Another page turned.

"Harribel." Barragan's voice dropped to a tone she was familiar with. A tone that promised a fight, causalities be damned until either of them passed out. "I do not want to be _gespielt_ with. Why did you transfer to Hogwarts?"

"For a similar reason to you, I imagine." Harribel looked up from her book to meet Barragan's eye, attempting to gauge his thoughts as she continued. "Hunting down Voldemort."

Barragan simply stared back into her green eyes with sharp gaze. "_Jagd.. _That is one way to say it, _Ja. _After all when a man comes back from the _tot_.. to defy the only absolute.. as a Louisenbairn, I have a vested interest in finding the _wirklichkeit _of this claim.. to protect what is _meine._"

"To put in your family book of course? Not to use personally?" Barragan had never told her why exactly his family made the Grimnoire, or why they were so obsessed with adding as much information to it as possible. But she could put the pieces together, giving her a rough guess.

"_Ja.. _besides.. he'd come and try to recruit me eventually. And a Louisenbairn _b__ögen_ to no one. Especially not some worm that lost to _ein Kind._"

"And how exactly do you plan on finding the most feared dark wizard in the world?" Currently satisfied with Barragan's answer, for now, Harribel went back to her book, only paying fledgling dark wizard half of her attention.

"Follow _der Köder. _Why else would I leave my _geliebt_ Europe for English soil." He shuddered, thoughts of the garbage he'd be forced to eat. A quick reminder of why exactly he was going in the first place was the only thing that held him from calling the whole thing off.

"Going to make friends with Potter? And I thought I wasn't going to enjoy the coming semester, but instead I get front row seats to this year long comedy." She snickered at the look of revulsion that crossed Barragan's face before he got it back under control.

"Hardly. British _schwein_ does not a 'friend' make. Trash should stay with trash. I plan on watching _das Kind_ and going from there... that you will be there as well.." He trailed off in thought, only to see Harribel role his eyes as he thought of including her in whatever hair brained scheme he called a plan.

"Will provide _wenig. _Hah, and I thought you might have finally been willing to pay for _das Grimnoire._ Ah well, you do your little self-sacrifice hero _sache_, it shall give me a chance to act without your usual hinderanc-"

Barragan's small speech was cut short by a small face full of sand, flung at him from a pale willow wand he knew almost as well as his own.

"You done, you looked like you were going to start monologue, and frankly, the other beach goers and I, would prefer to enjoy our vacation in peace. If there is anything else _Herr __Skelett_? I am meeting with some actual friends in an hour, and I do wish to finish this chapter." Harribel's calm eyes met Barragan's again, glad she didn't put down her wand since he looked ready to tear the beach apart.

But, he had his pride, along with the voice in the back of his head telling him that leaving now would be less mind-numbingly dull than dealing with the local magical law enforcement.

Muggle police? Send as many as you want, he'd send back a mountain of corpses. Send the auror's? He'd probably take out twenty or thirty if Harribel kept her nose out of things. If not, he'd be lucky to take out five before he was swarmed into temporary submission. And he didn't come here to fight, he came here looking for an ally, but he found that nothing was going to change.

At best, Harribel would stay out of his way when dealing with Potter, possibly an aid in taking down He-Who-Needs-A-Better-Name, or at worst she was going to be his usual shackle, getting in the way of his work if his methods were too tyrannical. Bah.

"Yes, _sie Hai Frau._ That is all." Barragan slipped a hand into the inner layer of his cloak, taking a wrapped brown parcel, roughly the size of a journal out of one of his enchanted pockets before tossing it at Harribel's feet.

"And I have been told that the proper french phase is _Bon anniversaire_, but since we are not _freunde_, as you were so _nett_ to remind _mir_ nor is your birthday for another _Monat_. Think of this as _ mir _getting rid of an annoyance, now you no longer need to _fragen_ for my permission to use the Grimnoire."

"_Guten Tag, Hai Frau._" Barragan turned on his heels, he had a port key to catch seeing as his business was over. He was rather thankful he didn't wait to get this out-of-the-way. It gave him a clear reminder.

No matter how much time passed, their relationship would stay the same. Him, the arrogant monster who needed someone to at least try to keep him grounded. Her, the selfless paragon of sacrifice who took on the job upon herself to keep the monster at bay long enough for him to finally snap, to finally cross that line in the sand. Giving her the one thing she wanted more than ever. A reason

And frankly Barragan thought himself an idiot for expecting that he might have actually had a friend. Ah well, he consoled himself. He was a Louisenbairn. He wasn't meant to have anyone by his side, friend or rival. Aside from himself, everyone else was only trash, kicked to the curb as was only right.

**AN: And hello again, this is just a story starter-prompt thing that I had to get out of my head. Anyways, as some of you know (the people who want blood for not updating Lich+Vampire), one of my favorite relationships in bleach is the one between Harribel and Barragan. Would I ship it in a romantic sense? Sure why not. Both of them are a lot older than they look just cause of the fact they're hollows, and for an old man, Barragan could look a lot worse, but that's not the point of this.  
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**I wrote this cause I wanted to take a look at the dynamic between the characters. Barragan who's god-complex is more or less justified in normal bleach canon, compared to the caring and more selfless Harribel. We are shown in the anime/manga that they knew each other before joining (or strong armed) into the Espada, but we never got a follow up on how they actually react to working with each other.**

**Most especially cause Barragan isn't the one with the weird view points. He is the epitome of what it is to be a hollow, while Harribel is the outlier. The one who wants to work together instead of following acting like a proper hollow and devouring everything. Both of them value strength but for different reasons. Harribel uses it to protect, while Barragan sees it as a way to conquer and take whatever he wants.**

**But anyways, back to the story. Seeing as this was going to be basically just Harry Potter series + Barragan and Harribel, so they don't have their hollow powers, but I balanced that out somewhat. Both are prodigies at magic. Harribel through pure determination to better herself to help others (family and friends specifically) and Barragan with his cheating abilities to perform complex spells with nary a second glance, as well as long linage with access to libraries worth of knowledge.**


	2. Power that Strengthens Pt1

Tier Harribel looked down at the small journal entry in her hand again, ensuring she had the right place. It's not that she doubted Dumbledore, not with his reputation before the British Ministry started taking potshots at him with owl pellets.

"I simply believed the great Order of the Pheonix's base would be more..." She muttered in her native french tongue before closing the midnight black journal, placing it back in her enchanted suitcase. Well it was now or never. When she sent the esteemed headmaster her letter of support, she didn't expect to be invited straight into the fold.

Madame Maxime must have bragged to Dumbledore about her. That was the only explanation the dark skinned blonde could think of as she knocked on the door, doing her best maintain a stoic and self-assured face for whatever was going to be thrown at her.

Unfortunately she didn't prepare for a half-crazed ex-auror to blindside her with stunning hex as she lowered her hand.

* * *

><p>"Bloody Death Eaters. We've been compromised it seems…" Moody muttered as Sirius and Lupin carried the girl inside. Girl had good reactions though. Went for her wand the moment they apparated beside her.<p>

"Moody.. I think you've finally lost it.." Sirius grumbled, none too happy to deal with the 'intruder' when his godson just showed up a few days. He was hoping for a bit more quiet time before the dragon dung hit the dustbroom. Besides, the supposed Death Eater was wearing muggle clothing. A cardinal sin to any self respecting pure blood.

"Bah. They send in a child cause they know Molly and the rest of you won't expect Voldemort to think of it… or think that a child could willingly work for him and his fanatics." Was the old man's response as he slammed the door shut behind them.

"You are being unreasonable.. and didn't Dumbledore mention at the last meeting that we'd be taking in another tenant before school started?" Lupin looked at the girl, she looked a year or two older than Hermoine at most. Certainly more developed but she couldn't be older than seventeen.

"Until we've properly interrogated her and have Dumbledore's express permission we will treat her as the enemy."

"Fancy way of welcoming an ally, with a Stupify and Veritaserum in a dusty old room." Sirius said as they quietly opened the hallway door. The former convict resolving to report this to Molly once he got the chance.

"Constant Vigilance!" Moody whisper-roared as the girl was set down on a spare bed. "We know nothing about her. If she was the new tenant, why didn't she say the password-"

"You stunned her before she had a chance."

"Quiet Lupin. That's not the point. She could be a Death Eater using polyjuice potion for all we know!"

"Sounds oddly familiar. Wonder why." Sirius deadpanned as he found the girls wand in a jean pocket. "Sorry love, no hard feelings." He said before pocketing the wand for safe keeping.

"Good, now I'll contact Dumbledore, and you two watch the door so she doesn't make a break for it with the location of our headquarters."

Lupin gave a weak nod as he coughed, while Sirius gave a sloppy salute he'd seen some muggle soldier do once. His rendition was only half as sarcastic as the originals.

* * *

><p>Harribel was starting to hate England. It was cold, it was damp, it was drafty, and it gave her a headache like she'd been hit with a stunning spell. Oh wait, that actually happened.<p>

She took a moment to assess the situation. Dusty, run down room, one door, no windows, a quick pat on her left side pocket revealed no wand as well. The ropes tying her to the bed were the last in a long list of clues that pointed to her being a prisoner.

Yes, she was really starting to hate the land of Yorkshire pudding and the Queen. The voices shouting outside her room doing little to improve her opinion as her head throbbed.

".. I don't care if you could have sworn she had a dark mark on her! She is a child and will not be treated like a prisoner in this house!"

"Molly! Molly don't you open that doo-" The male voice was cut off as the door was opened, a short, plump women with flaming red hair walking in. A gargoyle masquerading as a human following short behind her.

"Moody, she is not a Death Eater, you can lower your wand and let me talk to the poor dear, or I will turn you into a toad so Miss Harribel can show us the proper method of cooking frog legs!" Molly threatened as she turned towards the bald man, not caring for the crowd of teenagers watching the exchange with open interest.

"Dumbledore-!"

"Dumbledore has said we ask for the password, if she knows it, she is to be treated as a guest, and you will not attack her again."

"And if she doesn't know it, I'll be grilling her for information on how she found us." Moody shot back, not at all pleased the others were so ready to trust a child!

"Good, now." Molly spun on her heels, all traces of animosity gone as she smiled at an impassive Harribel. "_Bonjour. Je me appelle Molly Weasley._"

"Mrs. Weasley. I appreciate the effort, thank you, but I am rather fluid in english and I believe there are more important matters than introductions. Those can be handled after I no longer have one of Britian's finest ready to transfigure me into a pin." Harribel started before Mrs. Weasley could continue in her badly accented french.

"Now, I believe the password to avoid getting stunned upon arrival was 'Lemon Pops are but second rate when compared to the plethora of flavors offered by Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.'" She made sure to keep an eye on the old man with the enchanted glass eye. Sure she didn't have a wand, but Harribel had learned long ago a good punch could take out a wizard when a spell couldn't. It was a lesson Barragan learned just as harshly.

Moody just snorted at the girl, or at the password. "Good, now the girl somehow had-."

"Moody, she said it spot on. Now, don't you have some Death Eaters or other Order business to attend to?" Molly didn't let him get on another one of his paranoid rants before pushing him out of the room to do something productive, like not scaring the poor girl.

The poor girl who was just smirking at the small women manhandling the one who ambushed her. It was a rather amusing sight. But her thoughts were cut off when Molly turned her attention back to her. Funny how a women can go from hellfire to a toasty campfire in the blink of an eye.

"How are you feeling dear? Honestly, that man. Stunning a child. It's a good thing Sirius told me or who knows what he'd do."

"Thank you Mrs. Weasley, but I would be fine. And while I do not like the man, I can understand why he fired upon me. We are at war. Sacrifices must be made. And in some cases that would mean a sense of safety." Harribel did her best to suppress any accent she might have, but the french tone was still in the background of her words, lurking.

"Oh pish posh. Don't worry child. Dumbledore will have this all sorted out in no time. For now we just need to remain strong.. Now. Let's get some food in you. You are far too skinny for your age."

Before she could protest, Harribel found herself being dragged down the dark halls of 12 Grimmwauld place.

* * *

><p>"Sit, sit dear. Dumbledore should be along shortly to welcome you, and sort all this out. Now why don't you all get acquainted." Molly sat Harribel in one of the open seats at the dining table, leaving the girl to the curious eyes as she went to get some food.<p>

Now, Harribel was by no means shy, but getting tossed right into the shark pit was a bit much, even for her. Thankfully the lone female in a small sea of red hair was the first brave enough to break the ice.

"Ginny Weasley. Are you the exchange student we've heard so much about?"

"Tier Harribel, and I don't know. When I sent the Headmaster my letter, I wasn't fully expecting to be offered a place to stay a week before school started. Though I will do my best to aid the Order in anyway I can."

After that the introductions continued, only briefly interrupted by Molly setting a plate of mashed potatoes and roast beef in front of her. Conversation was light between the introductions as they asked a few small questions bout France and Beauxbaton until they came to the final member of the table.

"Harry Potter. Nice to meet you." Said the boy with messy black hair, thin frame and startling green eyes. If it wasn't for the fact that he had the scar, Harribel was almost tempted to call him a liar. How could this boy be famous Boy-Who-Lived, when he looked like one of the boys Barragan could snap him in half like a toothpick if they so dared as looked at him the wrong way.

Where did that come from?

Pushing that and all other unnecessary thoughts out of her mind, Harribel gave a polite nod as she finished picking at her food. Until a thought struck her. "Mrs. Weasley. Where is my luggage?" The last thing she wanted was someone to go rooting through it to find her Grimnoire, only to be reduced to ash by one of Barragan's protection curses.

Honestly, that thing had enough Dark Magic woven into it, that in the wrong hands it could be a one way ticket to a trial and a possible life sentence.

"It's in your room with Hermoine and Ginny's stuff. Why dear? Do you need anything?" Mrs. Weasley stood up, perfectly willing to go grab whatever the girl needed to give her more time to talk to the children. Harribel seemed like a nice enough girl, but she was cold. And the fact her mouth never went beyond an impatient or bored flat line seemed like a challenge, one Molly Weasley welcomed.

"No, no! It's fine, I can grab it myself. It's a rather.." Harribel ran through a quick list of possible front line curses Barragan would put on his precious Grimnoire. Nine times out of ten, it ended with one dead or seriously injured red-haired women. "Temperamental."

"'Ike de 'onst's 'ook of 'onsters from 'hird year." Ron said before swallowing another spoon full of potatoes, getting a smack to the shoulder and a reminder about manners from Hermoine. "Hated that thing. Nearly bloody well killed me one time."

Killed by a book? These british wizards.. "No, no. It's just that it was a.. I was given it by a.."

"By a friend?" Ginny offered, only to get a funny look and a laugh out of the blonde.

"As if I would call -him- a friend!" Harribel gave another chuckle as she calmed down. "No, it was given to me by my…." What was the word to use in this scenario? Acquaintance? Rival? Enemy? "It was given to me by some idiot with a god-complex who doesn't like having his toys played with."

When it doubt, stick with the facts.

"And knowing him if anyone other than myself tried to use or read it, bad things would happen."

Mrs. Weasley merely waved Harribel's worries away, what was the worst a child could do? "Don't worry dear. I'll get it. Sit and chat. And don't forget to finish that. You could use some meat on your bones."

"No, no!" Harribel ran to block the kind woman. "It's alright, I got it. But please. The person who gave it to me does not hold back. I don't know what sort of nasty tricks he put in. _Le cul_. I'd feel a lot safer if you allowed me."

"Oh, alright dear. Don't take too long though. And your room is third floor, second door on the left." Molly blinked, as the teenagers started to wonder what was so important that someone else could even touch it. At least one of the aforementioned teenagers was starting to come along to Moody's brand of thinking.

The coot would be proud.

**AN: So did a small edit to the first chapter. And I may or may not continue this at a slow pace with all my other stories cause I actually have a few great ideas for this.**


	3. Power that Conquers

Barragan looked at the book before him. He knew every wrinkled and aged page like the back of his hand. He could list off every secret or hidden feature on the cracked and abused tome that sat before him on a table in a similar state. The only difference between the two was the dust that had accumulated.

He didn't care about the table. Even if the layer of dust and spider webs grew, he still wouldn't care. The only part of Los Noches that was worth anything to him was the book that lay in front of him, and that little court yard with the pool surrounded by pure white sands.

Both of which lay there, taunting him. Reminding him of what he had to do. Telling him that he was so close, but yet so far. That time was slowly ticking away by the second even if he couldn't hear it.

Barragan found it comical that most people found writer's block a minor annoyance at best, yet to him it might as well be the difference between life and death, or better yet, freedom and servitude. To him, the terms were interchangeable.

If only he could figure it out. He would be free. He would have everything he ever wanted. He'd be a god.

Patience. Patience was the word he kept repeating to himself as quill tip-tapped against stained and rotting wood. Even if he wasn't the one to succeed, he'd still take that small step forward that was necessary for the process.

"So that is what I'll do.. That is what we will always do.. wear it down like time itself." He said only to himself as he scribbled a note in the margins, a small, miniscule even, improvement to some potion no one cared about or would ever use.

But he did it anyways, because he needed something to do. Something to alleviate the boredom before madness set in as he stared into the courtyard, trying to crack the code. He had a good 15 years before the worst happened. And he was determined to make the most of them.

* * *

><p>Another day, another room. A library, the contents of every tome already copied into the black, leather bound book before him. Must have been grand once before the weather and the rain got to it. But that statement could apply to the whole castle, so Barragan just shook the thought off with a deep chuckle.<p>

It was days like today he almost missed the trash filled halls of Beauxbaton. Sure he was surrounded by pathetic worms, but at least they were worth a laugh at times. He'd get a quiet chuckle from someone looking stupid, acting stupid, saying something stupid or just being stupid in general.

It was his own private comedy, and the best part is, no one knew they were actors. Just playing along, laughing with their friends, spending their days away without a care in the world when there was so much more that could be done.

That is why he respected-.. no. He didn't respect Harribel. That thought led down a road that he was not willing to go down. No. In a world full of insects and garbage. She was a shark. A predator. Someone who desired power, who had a goal they'd pursue just as mindlessly or selfishly as himself. A goal that she was even willing to stand up to him on. A rather unprecedented feat in his life.

When the majority of people either avoid you for their own safety, or try to pamper you, someone with a spine was as rare as a muggle spotting a unicorn. The filthy animals. Muggles that is. But it wasn't their fault. They just got unlucky not to be born with the gift.

That's why they are trash, something to be looked down upon or ignored at the best of time, removed at worst. Even if they do produce a diamond in the rough every so often. And that's not to say wizards can't be trash either.

Barragan flipped the page as he continued his work, mind half on the spells he needed to decipher and break, half on other endeavours. He had a few days before he was scheduled to leave for the land of tea and biscuits. Oh how he was going to miss a good german sausage or beer. Not that he ate much to begin with, but it was the small things that made life worth living. The Louisenbairn knew that best of all.

A rune flashed in the corner of his page. It seemed Harribel had a question for the book. Seeing as he didn't have a spirit or a ghost to answer the spell for him, and creating sentiment magic life was something not worth his time when he could just answer the questions himself or ignore them.

He glanced at the page, lines upon lines, diagram after alchemical symbol that wasn't just clicking at the time… He could spare a minute for whatever distraction the shark woman had to offer. Barragan tapped the rune with his quill as the ink seemed to fade away, leaving one small line of written english. Now he was being used as a practice dummy for her to test an imbecile's language on. Lovely.

"Journal, I require assistance." He almost snorted at that line. The image of Harribel wondering how to work the little assistance spell he weaved into the pages rather comical in hindsight. Of course he put that in under the assumption they'd be working together and could be used as a back up communication.

"What do you want _Hai Frau_?"

"Barragan?" Was the only response after a short wait.

"No, you _inkompetent_ _Mädcheni. _It's _das _Easter Bunny. Now _was_ do you want?"

"I had a question regarding lending this grimnoire to someone."

"Do you want them to _sprengen?_ If so, there are various other _Zauber und Flüche_ that you could use. Check chapters.." Barragan paused in his writing for a moment before the memory came to him. "3, 6, 41 _und _310. Best used on muggles, _Zauberer_, beast and _dunkel Kreaturen._ In that order."

Another pause. "What do you mean best used on muggles, wizards, etc?"

That caused him to scratch his head. "You were looking for way to _töten_ someone, no?"

A third pause before a clipped response. He could almost imagine the ice cold stare that usually went with it, he'd seen it enough times. "No."

"Then why are _du_ asking such _ein dummer_ question? You know that I will not _leihen_ this grimnoire to just _jemand_?"

"Even if they were a friend of mine?" For some reason that stung, but Barragan's response wouldn't have changed either way.

"Do I know them?"

"No."

"Then _dort_ is your answer. Anything else, _Hai Frau_ or I may get back to _meine _work? I have _Gifte_ to finish testing."

"Poison? Why?"

"None of your _Sorge._"

"Yes, it is. What is the poison for? And what are you testing it on? If it's people.."

"If it was _Menschen_ you wouldn't have caught me, nor would I have bothered to _sagen _you. Now, _Frage?_"

"This conversation isn't over… but what do you actually have on this book?"

"Harribel. If you are _dumm_ enough to try and work around the protections placed on _das Buch_ I will take great _Freude_ in laughing at your funeral, _und speziell_ at what little remains of your corpse, or anything within a _fünf_ meter radius of you."

"You. Gave me. A bomb?" Why did she seem so surprised? He found the idea of a muggle bomb rather novel, something most witches and wizards wouldn't expect. They'd expect some complex or everlasting curse that kills them in a week. Not for the journal to vaporize them into oblivion along with itself.

"I gave you a grimnoire with the _bestimmt_ thought that it was for you alone_. _No one else. Anyone else who tried would either get themselves and _das Buch_ destroyed, or another form of painful and just retribution. _Ein schmerzhafter_ death is the only thing that awaits those _töricht_ enough to try and mess with _meine_ property."

"I see. That is all….. Thank you for the clarification." The last part was added at the last second, as if it was a simple after thought.

"Do not thank me _Hai Frau,_ for I know you do not mean it." Barragan closed the journal as he leaned back in the shredded chair he'd been using as his work chair for the day.

The shark woman was truly audacious, he'd give her that. Having the nerve to ask him if she could share the book with some common rabble. Was it not enough that he gave a copy to her specifically? Was-.

Barragan shut himself up before he set to work destroying what was left of the castle in a fit of anger. Instead he went back to work, toying with ingredients and spells in the grimnoire as he tried to clear his mind. Work would help. It always did. Working wouldn't wash away the boredom, but it would clear his mind. Hopefully.

* * *

><p>"As charming as ever that man." Harribel said as she flipped the page. "A corpse would make a better correspondent than <em>Herr Skelett.<em>"

"Oh he didn't seem too bad. Maybe we just caught him at a bad time?" Hermoine offered. She was the whole reason Harribel bothered to talk to Barragan. In the few days since the french woman's arrival the two had bonded over a love of books and knowledge. One for the sake of knowledge itself, and the other as a tool to protect those they cared about.

Of course once Harribel let slip about the grimnoire, the bushy-haired teen had to see it herself. Hermoine was thrown off by the axe and skulls engraved in smooth white wood on the black leather cover but when told it was just the creator's emblem she calmed down. Mostly.

The fact this 'Barragan' could talk about killing people for touching his stuff as if it was a common occurrence was worth investigating. If only to inform Ron and Harry about at a convenient time. "Is he a Dark Wizard?"

Harribel shrugged as she went back to her book, splitting her attention between her fellow muggle-born and watching the notes on basilisk saliva update before her very eyes. Guess Barragan wasn't lying bout working with poisons. To what end, she didn't know. Yet.

"Depends. Malicious, cruel, unforgiving and an over-dramatic ham? Absolutely. Barragan has no qualms about killing someone for getting in his way. That is his default choice when faced with a problem. Solve only if removing the problem entirely doesn't work. But, so long as you stay out of his way, he will ignore you for the most part. His is an all encompassing hatred. Everyone but himself is garbage, just waiting to be disposed of." Like insects, she thought before flipping back to the list of spells she intended on learning before the new year began.

"And people just let him get away with that stuff?" Hermoine picked up her own book, not at all insulted that the beautiful foreign girl wasn't even attempting to look at her through the conversation. She knew exactly what it was like to find a good book, and if the situation was reversed, she'd be ignoring Harribel point blank, instead of humoring the girl with questions.

"Most of the teachers found it.. less painful for all involved if they did damage control instead of trying to reprimand him, while others kept a respectful distance and their gazes lowered. I think I was the only one who truly stood up to him…" Even Mila Rose, Apacci and Sung-sun kept quiet unless Harribel was within earshot.

"Beauxbaton was his sandbox as much as it was his prison." Harribel continued as Hermoine started chapter 10 of Defensive Magical Theory, for the second time to see if there was anything she missed. "If it wasn't for the law that all underage wizards must attend a properly certified school until they are off age, Barragan might not have even bothered showing up in the first place."

It'd have certainly saved her the trouble of constantly defending innocent classman against him.

"Sounds like Malfoy. The right snake. Always going on about blood purity when he doesn't even know what the effects of inbreeding do, calling people mudbloods as if being born a muggle was a crime. The as-" Hermoine bit her lip, not wanting to swear when she constantly reprimanded Ron for it.

Harribel just hummed as the conversation lulled between them. The Black Family Library stayed quiet for another ten minutes before the french woman spoke up. "It's funny… they constantly call themselves superior to their non-magical brethren, yet we, the gifted are the ones in hiding… Suddenly the insect comments have a little more validity…"

"Yes, but if we revealed ourselves to muggles, then they'd want to have magic for themselves. It might lead to all sorts of things, including more witch hunts." Hermoine countered, shivering slightly at the thought of ending up like a piece of poorly cooked barbeque.

"Mm.. a normal reaction really.. someone has something you want. You can't buy it, you can't steal it, you can't just take it. So you kill them. Wars have been started over less with greater sacrifices. Still.. I wished most of them would lose the attitude. Normal people just don't have magic. They are not some faceless group of monsters who want nothing more than to torture the unsuspecting magic user. No more than any other wizard would at least…"

Hermoine looked up from her book to see Harribel's face scrunched in frustration. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine.. just got a little heated.. all this stupid prejudice just gets to me.. I just wish people would realize that we'd be stronger as a united community, instead of at each other's throats because of something as _imbécile et odieux_ as who gave birth to who."

"If you want we can drop the whole discussion?"

"Thank you."

"Not a problem, but just think. A couple more days than you'll be studying in the greatest Magical school in Britain!" Hermoine flashed Harribel a smile mixed with school pride and genuine excitement.

For some reason, Harribel didn't feel excitement, only that sinking feeling she always had before she before a particularly nasty duel with Barragan… Still. Couldn't be that bad. Right?


	4. Power that Strengthens Pt2

Not even an hour in, and Barragan wished he could blast the entire English Countryside to a fine, white powder. The overcast weather was just depressing, even for him, and the travel accommodations… The small, padded benches may be enough for the plebeians, but not him.

Laws on Underage magic be damned, Barragan whipped out his wand, muttering various charms and spells until the room was far larger, and better furnished. Black leather couches in place of the under-stuffed benches, proper curtains to block the glare and most importantly, some actual leg room. He was living like a king, so par for the course.

He even conjured up his own armchair by the window, facing towards the door so he could enjoy the look of surprise on the insect's face before he slammed the door on it. Might as well go the extra mile to show off, else the refuse might get uppity.

And slam the door he did. Another perk of showing up rather early, he got the compartment at the very back, which resulted in no less than six groups of people nearly losing their nose to the enchanted door.

Petty? Only if you consider kicking an empty can around in boredom petty, since Barragan didn't see the difference between the two activities.

So when the door opened for the seven time, just after the train jerked into motion, Barragan looked up to see who'd be getting kicked out this time. Instead he saw a familiar set of blue lightning bolt tattoo's, long blonde hair and skin as dark as his own.

Just his luck.

* * *

><p>"Luna. What are you doing on the floor?" Ginny asked the misty eyed blonde who sat in the middle of the aisle, bag by her side as she read her copy of the Quibbler. Upside-down of course, like any respectable reader.<p>

To those who didn't know her, Harry, Neville and Harribel, it was a rather odd scene. To Ginny, it could have been much worse.

"Well, the gentleman in the cloak wouldn't let me sit with him, and all other seats are taken so I decided to sit on the floor. Rather comfortable." Luna replied, giving Ginny a look as if to say she was the weird one for not sitting on the floor.

"Rather rude of him…" Ginny moved to open the door only to be stopped by Harribel's hand on her shoulder.

"Let me go first.." Harribel stepped in front of the red-haired first year. Odds are the 'gentleman in the cloak' was a certain teen with a god-complex. Anyone else would be turned away, but she planned on forcing her way in. Especially if this was the only compartment with room on the entire train.

She was not going to sit on the floor for however long it took to get to Hogwarts.

* * *

><p>Harry watched the exchange student with only slight interest. He'd known Harribel for barely two weeks, and he didn't trust her. Especially when she gave her reason for fighting. What sane person moves to a country to fight a war that <span>might<span> spill into their home? Most people would run away or like the ministry, ignore what was going on, burying their head in the sands.

Her timing was too suspicious. And he didn't care that Dumbledore was vouching for her, especially since the Professor seemed to be going out of his way to avoid him.

So, Harry resolved himself to keep an eye on the dark-skinned blonde, incase she was some sleeper agent for Voldemort. The fact she was drop-dead gorgeous, a fact Ron was eager to point out, made the task at least easy on the eyes. But he'd take Moody's words to heart, constantly vigilant in her presence.

Harribel, unaware of Harry's thoughts simply slided the door open, giving the sole occupant a level stare when their gaze met.

"Barragan."

"Harribel." Barragan deadpanned back as he snapped his book shut.

Harribel didn't say a word as she walked in, placing her backpack in one of expanded overhead compartments as Ginny and Luna followed.

"I think not." Barragan glanced at the ensemble of fourth and fifth years, then at Harribel. "I'm fine with you. But I will not be sharing space with _diese Müll._"

"This is not a negotiation Barragan."

"Exactly, so _sie_ can leave."

"This is the only compartment left."

"And this is _meine_ problem, how?" Barragan glanced over at the two girls, both content with letting Harribel handle the situation, Barragan's prominent scars and tone doing more than enough to instil some proper fear in them.

"Because I said it is. I do not wish for my first day to include a duel with you, but I will do it." She threatened, but Barragan waved it off. To him the matter wasn't worth destroying the train for. It would only leave him further exposed to the terrible excuse the British called 'weather'.

"Do as you wish, I could care less. So long as the insects keeps relatively _ruhig_, they may stay. I do not wish to be surrounded by children, and I will _werfen_ them out if I so desire. Preferably out the window."

Harribel nodded, accepting Barragan's terms to avoid a fight before she took a seat, the rest of the group piling in after her, allowing Harry to finally get a good luck at who was talking.

What threw him off the most was the hair, white as fresh snow that seemed to ignore gravity as it stood straight up. But Harry passed that off as weird wizard genetics, or some spell. What couldn't be passed off as some spell was the two scars that ran along his face. The first over his left eye, permanently shutting it, while the second seemed to run from the top of his lip down the left side of his chin before continuing onto his chest, behind his shirt.

His clothes by wizard or muggle standards were also odd. A pure black coat with white fur trimming would certainly stand out, with it's short sleeves and three strips of fur along the bottom. Even if it wasn't for the amount of gold that decorated the teens body.

Thick golden wristbands on both wrists, three chains of woven yellow metal to act as what Harry could only assume was a belt, and a jeweled ring on each finger.

From his position in the padded chair, the muscular boy, a rarity among wizards as Harry had found, looked like king on his throne, and the gaze of his sole eye felt heavy, reminding him of Dumbledore, during his sparse moments of seriousness.

The Boy-Who-Lived had to wonder why both foreigners seemed to have this distinct regal feeling to them. Barragan was a picture of what Malfoy probably thought himself to be, instead of the sniveling daddies boy everyone knew and hated. While Harribel was aloof and cold as ice. Like a queen overlooking her subjects.

"Harry Potter.." Barragan grunted out before giving him a dismissive sort before turning his head to Harribel. "You are just a stand-in for the journey, _ja?_"

She simply shrugged as Harry bristled. "Stand-in?" He asked, not sure what the boy was implying but he didn't like it.

"Standin. Double. Spare to be killed off in case of _ein Hinterhalt._"

"In case of an ambush." Harribel supplied the translation to three confused teens.

"And why would I need a stand-in?" Harry's voice rose in pitch as Barragan snorted again.

"Because, _der berühmte _Boy-Who-Lived, shouldn't look like some under fed, _Welpe_ of boy. A wise plan. Send in the disposable clown while the real one uses flu. Your idea, _Hai Frau?_"

Harribel shook her head as she opened her grimnoire, wand at the ready. A few days in a certain Order's headquarters was enough to notice the Potter boy was on edge and had a temper. Two traits that Barragan seemed content to poke at.

Hopefully she wouldn't have to save the Boy from being turned into a pulp.

"I, am Harry Potter. I am not some double, nor am I some coward who'd need someone else to take my place." Another snort from Barragan before the dark skinned teen lost interest and went back to his book.

What followed was a few moments of tense as Harry, Ginny, Neville and Luna sat on one couch, while Harribel and Barragan had one for themselves. Thankfully, like a true Gryffindor Ginny braved on ahead as Harry reigned in his temper. Introducing Neville and Luna to each other as one fiddled with their plant, and the other their upside magazine.

To her credit, Luna seemed completely unaffected by the atmosphere, or the fact she was now sitting with the person that had kicked her out in the first place.

"And this is Tier Harribel." The young red-head motioned towards the french exchange student. "She's a fifth year who transferred in from Beauxbaton."

Neville gave her a shy nod and a mumbled 'Hello', for it to be returned with a quick look over and a nod back before she went back to her book. The fact that it matched this Barragan character's book wasn't lost on Harry.

"And I don't believe I caught your name." Ginny gave Barragan her best smile, only for him to not even look up or acknowledge her in any way. Nope. He simply flipped the page, content to ignore the insects breathing his air.

"She asked you a question." Too bad the insects weren't so willing.

"And I ignored her. Just like I plan on doing with _du._ If you do not know _meine_ name by simply looking at _mir_, you are not worth my time. _Wertlos_ half-blood's and muggle-borns are understandable. But pure-bloods? It's _eint Witz._"

"Barragan. Behave. The girl asked for your name. The least you can do is not be a jerk about it." Harribel spoke up, ignoring her fellow transfer's glare.

"Barragan Louisenbairn. Fifth year transfer, Slytherin House."

The blonde raised an eyebrow. "You've already been sorted?" As far as she knew, they were to join the first years and be sorted last as per the usual transfer procedure. Harribel also didn't notice the change in the Gryffindor's at the mention of being part of the house of Snakes. So long as they didn't start a fight, she'd let it pass. Barragan could be an ass regardless of what house he was in.

"_Nein._ But it doesn't take a genius to know where they are going. I have no doubt you will be placed in the _mutig_ and noble house of Gryffindor, or Hufflepuff. Do enjoy your time among the chivalrous _Schaf. _An army led by an old goat."

Now, Harry didn't speak a word of German, but Barragan's tone was more than enough to convey it as an insult. Once he caught her eye again, Harribel provided another helpful translation before going back to her book, making notes for the upcoming year.

"Sheep."

The-Boy-Who-Lived was about to tear into the transfer student when the compartment door opened to reveal Cho Chang.

* * *

><p>Harribel was starting to regret her decision for throwing herself into a war. Especially when the forces of 'Light' were doing so little. She just had to trust Dumbledore. He was the greatest wizard since Merlin and the man even Voldemort fears. So obviously he had a plan. She just couldn't see it yet.<p>

The fact Barragan was around was both comforting and disturbing. She knew if it came down to it, he'd sooner go out in a blaze of glory than take orders from someone, but in the meantime she still had to deal with him. A blinking rune in the corner of her page brought her ought of her musings about the war and fifth year charms.

Pressing the tip of her pencil to the rune brought her to a mostly blank page of the enchanted book with a small line of text in Barragan's familiar hand writing.

"_Hai Frau._ I think it is in both of our best interest that we outline a truce for this year."

Harribel glanced up to take in Barragan's bored expression. He obviously wanted to keep this conversation a secret, or he'd just talk to her in french.

"Finally going to surrender? _Herr Skelett._" It was too good an opportunity to pass up as she scribbled down her response.

"No." She almost smirked at the dark look in Barragan's eye as he wrote down his clipped response. Noone was paying them any attention. Harry was having an awkward conversation with some other women, while Neville and Ginny talked amongst themselves. And Luna was just reading her magazine in peace.

"Then what are your terms."

"_Meine_ terms are simple. We exchange any information we come across and in return I will refrain from hexing, cursing or jinxing any student or teacher unless I have a reasonable cause."

It was too simple. If it was this easy, she'd have been able to force him to stop years ago. "Define 'reasonable cause'."

"Anyone who I feel has insulted me, or _meine_ family in anyway I find insulting. As well as those who persist in trying to give _mir_ orders."

"And the difference between this and Beauxbaton?"

"_Sehr wenig._ I shall do as I please, when I please. I am simply offering _Sie_ a choice, similar to the one you rejected at the beginning of the summer. We may work together, o_der_ we may work separately. And who is _derjenige_ that keeps preaching unity?"

"Certainly not you."

"_Meine_ point exactly. Now, do you agree to this exchange, or should I find somewhere else to use my time?"

Harribel took a moment to reconsider. "On one condition."

"You are not in the position to make any. _Hai Frau._"

"And neither are you."

Both of them glared at each other over their respective books.

"_Was_ is the condition?"

"No first years."

Barragan rolled his eyes before jotting down his response. "Fine. I prefer moving _Ziel, _regardless. I will spare your _Heulsuse_ first years."

"Good. Aside from that, we will act as normal, and as soon as I know anything, I'll let you know."

"Whatever you say _Hai Frau._" Barragan flipped the page of his book, signalling the end of this conversation.

Too bad there were still a few hours left for everyone to be stuck on the train together.


End file.
